


The Consequences of a Fateful Decision

by lightmyway



Series: A Disjointed Path of Hope [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Dom/sub Undertones, Gay Panic, Gay Sex, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightmyway/pseuds/lightmyway
Summary: In the aftermath of Dean's decision to say yes to Michael, an angel ends up bloodied and broken.  Dean must face his role in Castiel's condition.  He must learn of the devastation left in the wake of his absence.  He must face the truths revealed under the archangel's control of his mind, body and soul.  And everyone in the bunker must face the threat of Michael's return.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up after season 13 and Dean is free of Michael's possession after several months.  
> 

There was no light coming from beneath the door. No sound either. It was dark and cold in the hallway. The fear he felt inside reflected in the eerie nature of his surroundings. Never before had he felt such trepidation in the bunker. The space had always been his solitude. To him it was a home, but now he no longer felt a part of the place. He felt separate and unwelcome. He knew the others did not see him that way, but the thoughts lingered anyway. Bypassing his own room, he had made his way down the hall to stand in front of a door he rarely entered. It was not that the occupant was averse to his presence. It was more that crossing that threshold made him confront uncomfortable truths about himself. The facts were ever in the corners of his mind.

He just chose to ignore them. Today, however, he did not have that luxury. Today he must accept the consequences for his actions. He stood stock still in front of the door for an indeterminate amount of time before he mustered the courage to knock. No response. He knocked harder and still there was no response. His initial reaction was to walk away and say screw it, yet he found himself knocking and calling out. “Cas. Cas. Can I come in?” No response. This time he nudged the door open and said, “Castiel.” Movement on the bed caught his attention. “I am coming in. Ok?” No response.

Walking sedately across the room, he approached the mound on the bed. “Please, Cas. I need to talk to you.” The body shifted and the blankets slid down. A bare shoulder came into view. A hitch of breath. At first, he thought it came from the bed, but then he realized the sound escaped his own mouth. A jagged burn ran along Cas’ neck and down his shoulder. Even in the darkened room the wound stood out on the untouched skin. Composing himself, he spoke again. “Cas, please. We need to talk.”

The body rolled and the blankets fell to rest at the angel’s waist, exposing a chest full of sigils and a deep gash across the abdomen. This time there was no question where the gasp came from and the accompanying chest pain seared through him as panic washed over him. “Oh, God. Cas, I am so sorry. I…I…” No more words would come. He was frozen when face to face with the aftermath of his choices.

The angel finally opened his eyes and looked at the hunter standing before him. A man with tears in his eyes and a broken expression on his face. Cas struggled to awaken. The pain in his body and the stranglehold on his grace weakened him. Sleep was his only comfort now and he fought to keep the anger at being awoken away. After several minutes of silence, Cas was able to speak. “Hello Dean.”

“Hey Cas.” The whispered reply was shaky.

Gesturing for Dean to sit, Cas said, “Dean, you have no reason to apologize. This was not your fault.”

Head dropped into his hands, shoulders shaking Dean responded brokenly. “How can you say that? My decision led to this. It was my hands that carved into your body. My breath that burned you. The smell will never leave. It follows me as surely as the sound of your screams. I did this to you.”

“No, Dean. You were merely a vessel. This was Michael. My brother tortured me. Dismantled my grace and burned his brand into my body. It was his anger, his jealousy, not yours.” Despite his broken body and exhaustion, Cas still exuded a soldier’s strength. The azure eyes bored into Dean’s with a fierce determination that to this day intimidated the hunter.

“I feel it. Your bones breaking. Your skin tearing. The warm blood on my hands. He made me feel it all. I swear he heightened all my senses and when I shut my eyes you are laid before me bloodied and broken.” Dean wiped his hand down his face, smearing the tears across his face. He tasted the salt and winced.

The body next to him moved abruptly. He felt a warmth at his shoulder and heard an inhalation of breath near his ear. “Dean, please listen. You are not to blame, just as I was not to blame in that crypt. Do you blame me for beating you when we found the angel tablet?”

“Of course not.” The answer was immediate and adamant. “That bitch Naomi was controlling you. And even with her manipulation you stopped yourself and then healed me.” Pausing, reliving that moment, Dean remembered something. “Hey, you know you never answered me when I asked what stopped you.” A small smile curved the hunter’s lips but was quickly replaced by a tight line.

Cas reached out and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. They both squinted at the intrusion of light. “Sorry about the light, but I need you to see me. I did not answer you because the answer was blatantly obvious.” When Dean stared at him looking lost, Cas continued. “You did. You told me you needed me and begged me to stop. Those words, your voice broke through her brainwashing. It did not matter that I killed you thousands of times in her simulations. The real Dean Winchester, my best friend, my family asked me to stop. That did not erase the image from my eyes or the sound from my ears. I still see it sometimes, so I understand your penchant to blame yourself. Why it haunts you? That does not change the facts. You did not do this to me. You would never hurt me.” Dean quirked his eyebrows at the angel. “Dean.” The name was said with aggravation. “You would never hurt me like this.”

Under the weight of Castiel’s words, Dean dropped his shoulders and hung his head. “It is not the first time I have hurt you. And before you argue about the Mark of Cain that is not what I am talking about. I am talking about yelling at you, pushing you, using you and let’s not forget abandoning you at your most vulnerable.”

“Dean. Blame goes both ways. We have hurt each other over the years, but we have always found our way back. As before, you are going to have to fight your instinct to carry the burden.” Castiel placed his hand on the crook of Dean’s elbow, squeezing gently.

Dean took a deep breath. “You know that is easier said than done.” Cas nodded. Watching the angel shudder in pain at the movement, a thought crashed across Dean’s mind. “Hey Cas, you said Michael was jealous. Jealous of what?”

 

 

 

               


	2. Chapter Two

There was a moment in which Dean thought Cas would refuse to answer. His eyes shifted away and his shoulders tensed, but then he brought his gaze back and stared into Dean’s eyes. “He was jealous of my connection to you. The bond we have shared since I pulled you out of hell. And when he discovered my love for you, his anger was palpable. It was an affront to his concept of what made an angel. I was an abomination in his mind. The sigils he carved not only dampen my grace, they demonstrate his ire at my audacity to love. The burns and the gashes those are my punishment for stealing your…devotion.” The angel struggled on the last word and it came out tentative and broken.

The apologetic Dean that entered the room was gone in an instant. Anger burst forth as he leapt up from the bed. “What the hell are you talking about, Cas? My devotion. What does that mean?”

Fear washed across the angel’s face, followed closely by sadness. For a fraction of a second, it gave Dean pause. The anger, however, steamrolled right over that moment. “Answer me.”

“No.” Dropping back to the bed, Castiel covered his head with the blankets.

Grabbing the blankets aggressively, Dean attempted to yank them away, but Cas held firm. “What the hell do you mean, no? I want an answer. I deserve an answer.”

A sound slipped out that closely resembled a sob. Dean brushed the thought away. The angel never cried, not even when facing death so he clearly heard wrong. The broken voice he heard next made it more difficult to ignore, but Dean forced himself to focus solely on the words. “You already know the answer. You were there when he was torturing me. You heard every word he said, every word I said. Now please leave.”

Dean went to speak, but a voice behind him gave him pause. “Dean, he asked you to leave.”

“But, Sam…” Sam stepped into the room and walked toward Dean.

“No, buts Dean. Cas needs his rest. Come with me.” A tug on Dean’s sleeve had him following Sam into the hall.

 Dean’s anger colored his face a dark crimson. “What the hell, Sam? Why were you even down here?”

“You were yelling, Dean. We all heard it. Mom wanted to come, but I told her to let me. We need to talk.” This statement was met with a glare and a flippant remark about feelings. “You may not want to discuss your feelings but we need to figure out what is going on with you. One minute you are tender and the next you are yelling. You cannot treat him like that. We don’t even know the repercussions of what Michael did to him. Those sigils. What if they are slowly killing him? Do you really want to be screaming at him right now?”

The deep-seated anger dissipated the more Sam talked and when he mentioned that Cas could be dying, he flushed with shame. The shame bled into fear and on the heals of that came a rush of sadness. Memories of Cas’ dead body, wings burned into the ground. Memories of wrapping and carrying his body, watching it burn on the pyre. Memories of a loss of faith, a loss of hope. Memories of weeks of despair, wishing for death. Memories of a broken bleeding body, screaming in agony. Memories of bloody hands and a bloody blade. Memories of Cas pleading for mercy, begging his brother to stop. Memories of Cas pleading for Dean, pleading for him to come back. “I broke him. I ripped up his body. I destroyed him. And instead of simply apologizing, instead of helping him, I ended up screaming at him. What kind of person does that Sam?”

“Dean, that is not who you are. We will figure this out.”

“Bullshit. This is exactly who I am especially when it comes to Cas. In everyone else, I accept weakness, I accept mistakes, but not with Cas. I yell, I blame, I belittle, and I demand perfection. Why is that Sam and why does he put up with it? I wouldn’t. I would tell him to go screw himself. I would tell him we are done. In fact, I have told him just those exact words. So, why the hell does he keep coming back?” Dean looked at his brother imploring him to answer and because of the intense scrutiny, he saw the moment Sam shut down. The moment Sam chose to keep his knowledge to himself.

Sam shifted his gaze away. “I don’t know, Dean.” The hesitation in his voice signaled the lie. Even if it was only a lie of omission. "For some reason you expect more from Cas. More than you have ever demanded of me. You have to figure that out, no one else can do that for you.”

Tired of the whole conversation, Dean chose to drop it. “Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now. I am going to bed. Night Sammy.”

“Night Dean.” Sam waited for Dean to enter his room and then turned to face Cas’ door. Dean watched through the crack in his door as Sam gently knocked and entered Cas’ room. He heard hushed voices. His instinct was to eavesdrop but an internal buzzing prevented him from moving. The buzzing morphed into a repetitive voice. _You are better off not knowing._


	3. Chapter Three

He awoke the next morning ready to push all the shit from the past few months behind him. It was time to deal with things the Dean Winchester way. Kill a few monsters, drink a helluva lot of alcohol and bury himself in women. Guns, booze and sex. The trifecta of coping mechanisms. At least that is what he told himself until faced with reality. The bunker was filled with people that needed help. Jack was still recovering from the loss of his power. Charlie and Bobby were adjusting to this new world along with a myriad of other survivors. Dean was still learning most of their names. Worse yet, there was a dark cloud hanging over all their heads. Barely an hour into his day, he was confronted with this issue.

“He is not healing. In fact, some of his injuries are getting worse. Sam, I need my father. We cannot let him die.”

Sam was quick to give the kid an answer. “Jack, we are not going to let Cas die.”

As tactless as ever, Bobby interjected. “Idjits, that is not even the biggest problem we are facing. Without Cas’ grace to protect us and the bunker, we are wide open for attack.”

“Really, Bobby, could you be anymore insensitive.” Mary glared at Bobby with her best mom stare. “You are talking about one of my boys. He is not just some angel we use for protection. He is family.”

Bobby looked sheepish in the wake of Mary’s anger. “I was just speakin’ the truth. And that doesn’t mean I am not worried about the man. But so far we have found nothing in the research.”         

Standing in the doorway, Dean took that moment to step into the room. “What do you mean without Cas’ grace we have no protection? This bunker is fully warded.”

Everyone turned to stare at him. Eyes drifted around the room until most everyone’s settled on Sam. “Chickens.” He pointed at each person in turn. “We have been trying to tell you for days. Between Lucifer’s interference all those months ago and whatever the hell Michael did before you were able to kick him out, the bunker’s wards do not work. Obviously, we are trying to come up with a fix, which does not require Cas’ grace, but so far no dice.”

A hush fell over the room as everyone waited for Dean’s response. Seeing the visible tension in the room, Dean faced some hard facts. Some of the people in the room were afraid of him and the others, while maybe not afraid of him, feared his unpredictable reactions. Schooling his features and reigning in his temper, he tried to speak calmly. “How long was Cas using his grace to ward the bunker?” Despite his best efforts, the words still came out laced with tension.

Once again, everyone looked to Sam to answer except this time his mother chose to intervene. “Dean. You have to understand. This is what Cas wanted. He could not get you back so he chose to protect and defend those you hold most dear.”

“Mary, I did not ask why. I asked how long.” Anger seethed just beneath the surface, but somehow, he bit it off before it exploded outward.

Taking a deep breath, Mary looked her oldest son in the eyes and decided it was time he heard the whole truth of the last few months. “Everyone can you please give Dean and I the room.” She waited for them all to exit. Dean heard Sam whisper, ‘Are you sure?’, and watched as Mary nodded her assent. Once the room was clear, she gestured for Dean to sit.

Facing each other across the large mahogany table, Mary began the story. “Dean, when you said yes to Michael and he took control, a devastation swept across this place. Having witnessed the moment, Sam and Jack crumbled. And Cas. I have never seen such utter defeat on someone’s face. The realization that you were gone, erased any good feelings about Lucifer’s death. We all dealt in different ways and different phases. Jack was consumed by guilt for losing his powers. Sam searched for answers until he collapsed from exhaustion. Jody and the girls rushed down to offer support, but they did not stay long. Seeing a broken Cas deeply hurt Claire and Jody chose to take her home. Days and weeks passed, until one day Cas walked out of his bedroom. The air cracked with thunder and anything made of glass broke in the wake of his approach. He stood resolute in the doorway of the library. An Angel of the Lord. A soldier of heaven. His wings flared behind him as electricity fused the air around him. I have never witnessed anything like it. It was as if General Eisenhower walked in to confront his troops on D-day.” She paused immersed in the memory. Dean could visualize it clearly for he had seen Cas in all his glory that day in the barn. Cas’ gravely voice telling him that he raised him from perdition. He remembered the fear and the awe he felt when Cas displayed his wings. Still buried in the memory he vaguely heard his mother begin to speak. He shook off the memory and tuned into her words.

“…brought us out of the darkness and gave us a mission. He laid out a plan and gave everyone a job. First and foremost, the bunker needed to be protected. Sam and I were shocked. We had not even realized the warding no longer functioned. Between Charlie, Sam and Cas they cobbled together a solution. The one hurdle was that it required regular influxes of grace and we are not talking small amounts of grace. For nine weeks, Sam drained Cas’ grace to power the protection sigils keeping us all safe.”

Mary waited and watched while Dean clenched his fists and ground his teeth together. It took several seconds and a few deep breaths for him to be calm enough to speak. “How exactly did he drain his grace?”

“They used the extractor from the Men of Letters.” She heard the heavy swallow from across the table and raised her head to find green eyes filled with pain staring at her intently. “Mom, that procedure is extremely painful. How many times over those weeks was he drained?”

Her head shaking and her heart pounding, Mary tried to dissuade her son. “Dean, honey, it doesn’t matter it. It already happened.” She knew her efforts would fall on deaf ears, but she pushed on anyway. “Dean, you do not want to know.”

“I may not want to know, but I need to know. How many times, Mom?”

Tears filled her eyes, as she whispered, “Twice a day.”

The sound of a chair crashing to the floor forced Mary to look up from her clasped hands. Dean was pacing the room and repeating “twice a day for nine weeks” over and over. Suddenly, it all stopped, the pacing and the words. Dean stood frozen.

“Dean, please come sit back down. There is more you need to know.”

His head whipped around. “No. Just no. Cas drained away his grace and weakened himself again. For what? So, when I came for him, he was half-human already. No wonder it was so easy to break him.”

Mary’s mouth fell open in shock. “Dean. Dean listen to me. You did not come for Cas. That was Michael. He hurt Cas, not you.”

“Does it really matter who it was, when it was my body that carried out the punishment? When it was my mouth that said the vile words. No, Mary, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that Cas in his need to constantly serve, sacrificed himself again.” He turned away from the table and began pacing again. “How many fucking times is he going to face humanity, face torture and betrayal? How many times is he going to die in service to what exactly? A man who stabbed him, beat him, lied to him, blamed him, ignored him and turned him away. A man who takes and takes. A man who destroyed his life the second he laid his hands on him.”

Arms encircled his waist. “Stop Dean. Don’t do this to yourself.”             

“No, Mom. You need to know who your son truly is. I am the man that listened to a once proud Angel of the Lord tell him that if he returned to heaven he thought he would kill himself. And do you know what I did in the wake of Cas’ confession. Nothing. Not a fucking thing. He was supposedly my best friend and when he told me he was suicidal, I just let it go. That is who I am.” On the last word, he ripped himself free of his mother’s grasp and stormed from the room. As she collapsed to the floor, Mary heard the door of the bunker slam shut.


	4. Chapter Four

Dean found himself outside in broad daylight with nowhere to go. Part of him wanted to dive right into the Dean Winchester plan and another part of him wanted to crawl back into bed. However, the responsible, always take care of Sammy part of Dean Winchester, won out. He sat in the car as he made a phone call. An hour later found him in a warehouse filled with military grade hardware. Several purchases and thousands of dollars later, Dean arranged for delivery and then headed for his next stop.

Rowena was irritated by the interruption, but still agreed to meet. In exchange for some quality time with a certain grimoire, she offered to use her full arsenal of hex bags and spells to shore up the bunker’s defenses. “I make no promises. If it requires angel grace, witch magic might not suffice. And you know how much it pains me to say that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, but it can’t hurt to try.” Even though the statement sounded positive the hunter’s tone gave his true feelings away. Rowena observed the once brash, always ready with a joke, Dean Winchester fail miserably at clinging to his usual brand of attitude. His effort was half-hearted at best. Her words slipped out before she could stop them. “What happened to the angel this time?”

Devastation and anger warred in his eyes forcing Rowena to take a step back. Despite her considerable power, an emotional Dean Winchester was a formidable foe. “What did you say?” His words slithered out of his mouth through clenched teeth.

“Forget it. Shouldn’t we be getting to the bunker. It isn’t getting any more protected while we stand her chatting.” She attempted flippancy and prayed she pulled it off. To emphasize the point, Rowena whipped herself around and stomped off toward the Impala, her flaming red hair flashing in the sunlight. “Are you coming?” She called over her shoulder.

Dean took several minutes to compose himself, wondering why everyone always shoved Cas in his face. Shaking off that infuriating train of thought, he trudged to the car. By mid-afternoon, Dean and Rowena were back at the bunker. Two hours after that, Dean returned for the second time that day. This time he brought a trailer full of military supplies.

“Everybody in the library, we have work to do.” His deep voice reverberated through the cavernous space. A flurry of people entered. The sound of voices and movement filled the room until a hush fell over the entire room. Everyone watched as Sam helped Castiel walk into the room and then gently seated him in a chair. Dean kept his head turned away, but his gaze drifted to the angel several times as he made his way into the room. As he tried to lay out his plans, his mind kept zeroing in on Cas. His red-rimmed eyes. The deep purple bags under his eyes. His pale skin. The sheen of sweat covering his face and chest. The unhealed burn and wounds. Pulling himself away from Cas for the fifth or sixth time, his eyes found Sam’s. Without words, his too tall brother came to his rescue.

Sam steered the conversation and dictated the placement of the new weaponry. He allowed Rowena to explain her own role and then he sent everyone off to get to work. Before the room emptied, Dean had already downed half a whiskey bottle. When he finally looked up to a silent room, he regretted it immediately as he found Cas struggling to stand from his chair. He desperately wanted to rush to his aid, but that stupid word devotion circled his mind. He was still angry at the angel for not explaining. And of course, he was still angry at himself for snapping at him. While he watched, rooted to the spot in indecision, Cas glanced his way. When his eyes landed on Dean, he promptly looked away and dragged himself from the room. As Dean recognized the dismissal, his chest clenched at the realization that Cas’ eyes had been brimming with tears. The hunter felt tears prick his own eyes. He shook himself and fought back the tears. “Enough of this. Fuck. Get yourself together.”

“Who are you talking to, Dean?” asked Sam as he reentered the room.

“No one. I am just heading out.” Sam reached out for him as he pushed past. “Dean, you already drank enough for tonight.”

“Good thing that is not what I am looking for then.” Dean chuckled and pulled his arm free.

“What the hell does that mean?”

Dean spun around to face his brother as he backed toward the stairs. “Do I really need to spell it out for you Sam? S-E-X.” A pained laugh escaped and then he rushed up the stairs and out the door.


	5. Chapter Five

The motel room smelled like stale cigarettes and the woman below him smelled like cheap perfume. He tried to focus on the sensation in his groin, but the room, the smell, the color of her bleached blond hair, distracted him. The more he wanted this over with quickly, the longer it seemed to take. He closed his eyes and tried to envision one of his fantasies. As soon as his eyes closed, an image of his hands carving up Cas crashed into his head. He pushed the image away and pictured that sexy nurse from his last visit to the ER. Her dark hair and blue eyes transformed into the dark head of messy hair and soul-crushing blue eyes of his angel. “What the fuck?”

Having completely forgotten the woman he was currently having sex with, Dean was shocked when he heard her say, “What the hell is your problem?”

Dumbfounded by the images in his head and the ridiculous situation, he said nothing as he climbed off the bed. He dressed quickly and exited the room without a backward glance. The woman chucked a glass at him and it broke against the door as he closed it. The last thing he heard before getting in his car was ‘asshole.’ As he sat in the driver’s seat, he had to agree with her assessment. “What am I doing? Cas, I don’t understand what is happening to me? Cas, I need you. Forget I said that. God, I really am an asshole. You can barely stand, and I am praying for your help. Talk about hitting a new level of low.” He turned the key and headed for the bunker.

He stumbled in to find the common areas deserted except a sliver of light. Following the light, he was shocked to see Cas curled up in a corner with a book in his lap. “Did you have a nice night, Dean?” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

Heat crept up his neck and onto his cheeks as he looked down at the angel. “Obviously, you know I didn’t. I guess that means you can still hear prayers.”

“You do realize that you do not simply pray. You practically shout at me and not just your words but your emotions as well. It is very annoying when I am trying to sleep especially since half the shit I hear or feel in your prayers you would never say to my face.” Cas attempted to stand in defiance, but his legs refused to hold him. Dean caught him and as his arms wrapped around Cas’ waist. Dean could not help but lean into the touch.

“Cas, I…I wish that I was a better man.” The words came out against the skin of Castiel’s neck. The tickle of Dean’s lips against the tender flesh sent a shiver down the angel’s body.

“I do not want a better man. I have never wanted anyone but you Dean. And you can keep pushing me away, yelling at me and acting like you do not return my feelings, but we both know you are lying. Now if you have nothing else to say I would like to go to bed. It is exhausting having to listen to you beg for me while you fuck other people.”

Dean staggered back, dropping his arms. “Cas.” The word came out as a plea. “Cas. I…What?” As he stumbled over his words, his knees gave out. Dean crashed to the floor. Panic set in and he struggled to breathe. Warm hands engulfed his face and beautiful blue eyes bore into his as a strong gritty voice said, “Dean, stay with me. Breathe for me. Now, Dean. Breathe.” The pain in his chest eased and those gorgeous eyes never left. “I am sorry, Dean. I never meant to tell you that. I knew you would react harshly, but I never imagined that it would cause a panic attack.”

Still focused on Cas’ eyes, Dean ignored the pull to brush off his reaction. He ignored his instinct to yell or crack a joke. His angel deserved better. “Cas. I would really like it if you would explain what precisely you meant by that statement and also when did you start to swear.”   A fresh wave of panic tried to force its way in, but Dean clung to reality.

“Dean.” There was resignation in his voice. “I do not think you are ready to hear this.”

“Please, Cas. I may not want to hear. I may not be ready to hear it, but I need to hear it. And you should not have to keep my secrets.”

 The angel dropped his eyes and looked to the side. “This is going to be a long story and I need a more comfortable place to tell it.”

 Dean stood up and helped Cas to his feet. “My room is closest, and my bed is more comfortable than that piece of crap in your room.”

 “Yes, Dean. We all know that your bed remembers you.” Cas huffed as they slowly made their way down the hall stopping in front of Dean’s door. Dean pushed the door open and helped Cas to the bed. "Do you mind if we share?”

“Whatever you are comfortable with Dean?” Dean stared at Cas, reflecting on how many times Cas put Dean’s needs before his own. How many times did his comfort or desires come before Cas’? “Cas, why do you always do that?”

The angel tipped his head to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why do you always worry about my comfort. Why do you always say ‘of course Dean’ even when you don’t agree. Why do you always offer to come with even when you don’t want to? Why do you put me before yourself?”

Cas patted the space next to him. “Dean come sit and let me tell you my story. I think by the end you will have the answers to all your questions.” Dean slid into the bed next to Cas and turned on his side to face the angel.


	6. Chapter Six

I was never a good angel. Naomi told me I was broken from the very beginning. Rebellion was not new to me, nor were doubts. When I met you, I was unable to remember that part of myself because of her mind control. I have no discernible idea how many times she wiped my memory and reprogrammed me. Her problem was that even with her invasive techniques the heart of who I was remained. At the next crossroads or questionable order, my doubts would return. I would question, I would poke, I would prod and the only reason I was not simply abandoned in prison was because I was a brilliant soldier. You must understand much of this I have had to piece together from my jagged memories and the words of other angels including Gabriel.

It seemed odd that a rebellious angel would be chosen to help retrieve the righteous man from hell, but they needed every skilled warrior they had. As we fought our way to you, I heard your soul cry out in anguish. It was the first time your distinct brand of prayer reached me. The pain in your cries invaded my grace and pushed me to reach you. A well of strength rose up in me and I blasted my way through the last layers of hell to reach you. Your soul crashed into me and clung on for dear life. As I dragged you from that horrid place, I guarded you from all outside sources. Angels and demons alike. At the last second you fought me, forcing me to grip you harshly. Thus, the handprint. It was my brand on your soul and later on your body once I returned your soul to it. We are not merely connected because of how we met, Dean. We are bonded in many ways. Your soul touched my grace and vice versa. Your body is fused together with my grace. And your prayers reach me no matter the circumstances. Even if I am human. When we met in the barn, I was saddened that you did not feel our connection. You compounded that sadness by questioning whether you deserved to be saved. I made a promise to myself that day that I would one day prove your worth to you. The grand plan, however, kept interrupting my attempts. Every time I thought I had earned your trust events thwarted my progress. It was devastating when Anna came into the picture. She had been my superior. I respected and loved her in the ways of the heavenly host. Watching you with her cracked something inside of me. At the time, I did not recognize the feeling. That would come later.

When I chose to rebel and help you reach Sam, I knew the consequences of my actions. I said goodbye to you as the wrath of Raphael weighed down on me. Being recreated and returned to your service was shocking. But to find out all my efforts failed, and that Lucifer was free drove a nail into my grace. I was cut off from heaven. I needed to find answers and that is why I went on the search for God. Sadly, all I found was lost faith and depression. There were so many moments that year in which our bond tugged at me. Your prayers grew more insistent with each passing day especially after Sam chose to take Lucifer into the cage. That day at Stull I was ready to die again. Die for the salvation of earth, but more than that I was ready to die for the Winchesters. It was my place as your protectors to die in the final battle. Once again, God brought me back with no instructions, no Sam and a broken Dean. You were set to keep your promise to Sam and I believed that you deserved to live in peace.

Even though I planned to let you live your life, I could not leave Sam in that cage. I wanted to free him and return him to you. When I visited you that year, I did not understand why Sam was never there and why you still prayed for him. It was also during that year that your prayers shifted to longing. You cried out for me and I would come abandoning the war in heaven. You were never alone when I would arrive and so I never showed myself. Often, you were curled up in bed with Lisa. The crack that formed when I saw you with Anna reemerged, when I saw you with Lisa. I still did not understand my feelings on the matter. My last visit to Lisa’s house was the day I decided to work with Crowley. I realized as I watched you live a regular life that I could not drag you into another apocalyptic war. It was my job to protect you. Even with the horrific results of that decision, I do not know if I would make another choice. The one item that still gives me pause is the look on your face the day discovered my betrayal. I could not tell you my reason and when I finally tried to explain, you refused to listen. Every choice I made during my war with Raphael was made to protect you. My choices ended badly, but I will never regret my reasons for choosing that path.

When you found me living as Emmanuel, devoid of memory, I felt an immediate connection to you. A missing piece of my puzzle. There was a measure of completeness when I was in your presence. Being forced, however, to remember the horrific being I became and the horrific acts I committed began the breakdown. Adding Sam’s memories and pain to the mix intensified and prolonged the breakdown. I did not want to come back to the world. Three times I was recreated and every time I failed and was left more broken than the time previous. It was the first and second to last time I willingly left your side. I wholeheartedly believed you and Sam were safer without me.   I truly believed that I was cursed. In the end, you chose me, and I chose you. We faced the Leviathan together and when we ended up in purgatory, my sole mission was to keep my taint away from you. So, despite your constant prayers and longing I kept myself from you. Each day it was difficult, but I convinced myself that was part of my penance for all the destruction I committed. Staying behind when you went through the portal was the punishment for my transgressions. I did not realize the impact that decision would have on you.

When I was brought back by heaven once again, I saw the hurt in your eyes. The distrust. Even in the wake of that you prayed to me. I know you thought I was ignoring you. That is the furthest thing from the truth. I came anytime I was free to do so, and what often greeted me ripped through my grace. The first time it happened I froze in shock. I woman on her knees servicing you while your mind cried out for me. As an angel, I was lost. There was no one I could confide in, no one to give me an explanation. The second time, I stood outside your car as you…finished, calling out my name in silent prayer. After that, I lost track of the times I witnessed you fuck someone in my stead. Each time tore bits and pieces of me away. Even worse were the times I came to you at a bar. As we talked, you would lean into my space or touch the back of my neck. The more physical contact, the more I heard your longing. Fantasies played out in those prayers and I would think there was hope for us, only to watch you abandon me to pick up a woman.

I came to realize there was no place for me in your life. I could not be your buddy or your brother. Your determination to cling to your idea of manliness, your heterosexuality, left no room for me. It was for that reason I decided to go along with Metatron’s plan to close heaven. If I went away without the ability to return, I figured you would eventually stop praying to me. Things only proceeded to get worse when I was human. Your prayers triggered uncontrollable physical reactions. My grace could no longer dampen my responses. It was devastating to have to take myself in hand and force my mind from picturing you. When April killed me, your visceral reaction gave me hope, but then you asked me to leave. Despite my lack of faith, I prayed to my father to let me die or at least remove my emotions.

The Rit Zien actually did me a favor. Kneeling in front of him, I realized I wanted to live. I am not saying life got easier after that, but at least I was no longer suicidal. The next years passed in much the same way except I learned some valuable lessons. I dropped in on Sam when I sensed your longing. I no longer witnessed your sex life because he dissuaded me from going to you. I began to understand that Sam knew of my feelings. When I gave up the army and we worked to free you from the Mark of Cain, he explained your behavior as best he could. With his words, I chose to push my desire for you aside and focus on the relationship I could have with you. It was still difficult for me when I felt you have sex with another or when you called me brother, but I was lucky to find another confidante. Charlie helped me understand the fear of facing one’s sexuality and how you were not alone in denying that part of yourself. She was angry about it, however, because she knew if I had a female vessel you would have willingly shown your feelings.

After your mom came back, you seemed more willing to share your emotions. I assumed incorrectly the same would apply to me. I told you I loved you, but nothing changed. As a result, I resumed my role as your guardian. I chose to take on the role of killing Satan’s child because I did not want you to have to take an innocent life. Walking away with Kelly and protecting Jack helped me feel angelic and human at the same time. Dying for that was alright with me. Jack chose me to be his father. That was the greatest gift I ever received and when he called to me I knew I must return. This time I brought myself back and it was not just for Jack. As soon as I awoke in the Empty, I heard your pain, your want, your need. I felt your love unleashed from the shackles, unburdened by the weight of shame and fear. I gave you every opportunity to tell me how you felt. I asked you why I was brought back. Each and every time you answered with ‘we needed you’. Never I need you Cas or I love you Cas. And then you were gone trapped under Michael’s power. Exposed to his forays into your mind. You have never been able to hide your feelings for me in the comfort of your own mind. Michael fed off those feelings. It angered him. Knowing you held me in higher esteem than him. Jealousy festered in him. It is why he came for me. Torturing me, breaking me were his attempts to show his strength and prowess. It only angered him further when he discovered the feelings were mutual. He despised me for loving a human, for giving my life in the service of one man. The sigils he carved, the methods he used derived from his desire to destroy my love, break our connection, break the bond of your soul and my grace.

No matter the circumstances or the machinations of others Dean, I will always come back to you. I will always be at your side. It is my place and has been my place since I touched you in hell. Not accepting my love or accepting your own love will ever change that fact. I am an angel in love with the righteous man. A man deserving of that love and devotion. It is freely given, and I realized over time I need nothing in return. Jack helped me find the path to unconditional love and now I offer it to you without reservation. And that is my story.


	7. Chapter Seven

Dean sat motionless his eyes glued to Cas. The entire story was told with Cas staring across the room or at his hands. Missing the intensity of Cas’ gaze, Dean lifted his hand to the angel’s face turning him until their eyes met. Tears streamed down his face seeing the unbridled love in those unbelievably blue eyes. The moment was only broken when Cas reached out and wiped Dean’s tears away.

“Cas, how, after all the times I denied you, sought comfort from another…how is it possible that your love remains? If I had witnessed you in bed with someone, I would have torn the place apart.”

“Dean. Showing myself in those moments would have only made the situation worse. I had no choice, but to remain secret. And what I have learned of love over the years is that one cannot control it. It simply exists. Loving you is part of who I am.” The sound of gunfire broke the intense, private moment. Cas and Dean leapt from the bed and exited the room in a flurry. The sound of more gunfire and screaming greeted them.

“What the hell is going on?” shouted Dean.

The answered shout plunged his body into fear. “Michael is here.” Sensing Dean’s distress, Castiel stepped in front of the hunter. “Dean listen to me. I will confront him, but it must be outside. Get everyone safe and let me do this.”

The words snapped Dean out of his stupor. “What the fuck? No, Cas. You can barely stand and you think I would let you face this alone. No way. Forget it.”

“Dean.” The angel’s voice seethed with frustration. Before he could argue, Rowena entered the room. Her long dress flowing around her legs.

“Boys, there is no need for that. Charlie and I have found a solution of sorts.” Charlie stomped in behind the witch. “Rowena, you were supposed to wait.”

Waving her arm toward the stairs, Rowena said, “We are out of time and this is our best chance.”

“Enough.” Castiel said firmly. “What is this solution?”

Charlie touched Rowena’s arm and stepped around to stand before Dean and Castiel. “You need to recharge yourself with Dean’s soul.” Cas attempted to argue, but Charlie spoke over him. “I know you are worried about hurting him, but…” Cas refused to be ignored this time. “Charlie even if I agreed, which I do not, the sigils carved on my chest will stop any transfer of power.”

“That is where you are wrong.” The red-headed witch said with a sneer. “I am a witch, you know. Spells are my specialty. I will dampen the power of the sigils as you use Dean’s soul.”

Cas was shaking his head as she spoke, but Charlie refused to acknowledge it. She turned to Dean as she said, “The bond you two share is a soul/grace bond. They are already connected and entwined with the way you feel about each other.” Dean sputtered at her words. “No, Dean. Listen. It is not the time to argue about this. From our research, the connection you have with Cas will make this recharge supercharged. There is no telling exactly how Cas will respond.”

“Or if he won’t explode.” Rowena unhelpfully added.

“Dammit, Rowena. We determined that was an extremely unlikely option.”

Dean shifted from foot to foot as the two women scowled at each other. “You know you are not selling this solution very well, or really at all.”

Charlie looked at Castiel. “This is the best option. You want to meet Michael in battle and this is the only way you will have a fighting chance.”

“Why are you so sure he wants to fight Michael?” asked a miffed Dean.

Both women stared at Dean, but it was Charlie who chose to answer. “Really. Cas is a soldier. He is a protector, a guardian. This is the only choice he has. Even I know that and I only met him a few months ago.”

The sound of Bobby yelling, ‘we can’t hold him off much longer’, through the door made the choice for them. “Cas.” Dean locked eyes with the angel. “Yes, Dean.” That was all it took. Rowena started her role as Dean sat in a chair. Cas’ chest began to glow with a separate set of markings and Rowena nodded for him to proceed. “I am sorry, Dean. I do not want to hurt you.” Dean smiled at his friend. “No apologies. This is who we are. Now get on with it, angel.”

Cas furrowed his brow at the hunter frustrated by the sarcastic endearment. “You truly are a stubborn, infuriating man.” Dean smiled, wide and breathtaking, prompting Cas to shake his head. “Ready.” Dean nodded stoically. Cas slid his hand to Dean’s chest and pressed with the last of his remaining strength. The second he made contact with Dean’s soul warmth infused his body and his grace began to sing. The sound echoed through the room as a low hum. As the hum grew louder, Dean melted into the touch. The pain etched on his face eased and his body sought contact. With Dean’s urging, Cas slipped in between Dean’s thighs and dropped his head until their foreheads met. Cas’ grace danced around Dean’s soul. A soul that desperately reached out to weave into the cracks of the angel’s grace. The moment all the wounds were healed Castiel flared back. Body rigid, back straight as massive wings erupted from his back. The three humans watched as Cas’ entire body lit up with swirling golds and blues. No words were said as Cas flapped his wings and disappeared.


	8. Chapter Eight

Cas found himself standing in front of the archangel. Michael’s expression, at his first glimpse of a supercharged Castiel, was priceless. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, but the dead giveaway of the true nature of his fear was his shaking hands. That fear only grew when Castiel spoke. “You will not harm anyone again. Your pride and petty jealousy end today.” Michael cowered at the display of power. Castiel yelled to the gathering of people. “Close your eyes, now.” As he spoke, Castiel’s wings flared higher and two extra sets emerged. Six massive black wings flanked the back of a being unseen in all Michael’s years in heaven. The countenance of a Seraph, the wings of an archangel and the colors of God’s light stood before Michael. In response, he tried to leave his vessel behind and release his true self. Castiel, towering above the archangel, forced his grace back into the human vessel.

“No, brother. You do not get to run from me. I took your abuse, your torture and now you will face the consequences of your actions. You dared to use my love for the righteous man against me, against him. For that alone, you deserve death.”

Michael pleaded with Castiel. “No, please. I will leave just let me live.”

“I will give you the choice you took from me when you bound my grace. Die or live as a human.”

The archangel flashed with anger and a blade dropped into his hand. A golden blade designed solely to kill archangels. A deep laugh erupted from Castiel, “Brother, do you really think that will work? I am an angel infused with the soul of the human I love. The power of God flows through me. I know you see it. I, of all the angels, have fulfilled his mission. To love his most treasured creations above all else.” Michael moved toward the towering figure giving Castiel no choice, but to reach out and halt his movement. With his hand on the archangel’s forehead, Castiel asked, “What is your choice?”

Michael raised the blade in answer. A surge of power emitted from Castiel’s entire being and the archangel disappeared in a mesh of swirling light and fog. When the power dissipated from the air, the people surrounding the field opened their eyes. The site before them was terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time. It was only Dean who saw through the massive wings and blinding light to see the exhausted man within. He rushed to the angel. “Cas. Cas. I am here.” The angel turned at the words finding the hunter running full out. Cas fell to his knees just as Dean arrived. The hunter wrapped his arms around the angel just as the light faded and the wings became shadow. “Cas, man, speak to me.”

The angel flopped his head back to look up at Dean. “Did I ever tell you your bow-legs are incredibly sexy?”

Shock washed over Dean’s face and then he threw his head back laughing raucously. After catching his breath, the hunter dropped his gaze ready to crack a joke, but the site of Cas’ blue eyes filled with desire and love stopped the flippant response. What came out instead was a broken, ‘Cas.’

“Dean, you are so beautiful. Thank you for giving me part you. I will cherish the tendrils of your soul for the rest of my long existence.” At the sincerity of Cas’ words, Dean caressed the angel’s cheek and then slid his hand around to the back of his neck. Cas mimicked the action. They both leaned in at the same time. The tentative touch of their lips electrified the space around them.

Pulling back, Dean stared at Cas with awe. “All these years, I denied this, I denied us.” His voice cracked on a sob. “All those years of empty hook-ups, and a mere brush of your lips is the best feeling I have ever experienced. I felt that in every fiber of my being.”

“Oh, my love, you felt our bond. It is not merely sexual attraction between us. The deepest parts of ourselves crave each other and now they are interwoven.”

“Cas, I have wanted you since you walked into that barn. But there was so much shame attached. I was ashamed to be attracted to a man, ashamed to want an angel. The worst was the shame that came with desiring your power. That day at Bobby’s house when you demanded respect and threatened to throw me back in hell, I was so turned on. I didn’t understand how I could be aroused by that. Over the years that arousal only grew in intensity. I’d pop a boner at your commanding tone or at your smite face.”

Cas chuckled deeply. “My smite face?”

“Yeah, that scary look you get when you’re pissed off enough to smite someone. God that is so hot. But that should not be hot.”

Cas dropped his forehead to Dean’s. “Why is your arousal wrong? Your body is simply telling you what it likes. Are you ashamed of your desire to wear women’s undergarments?”

“Fuck you know about that, too.” Cas leaned forward and kissed the pout off Dean’s face.

“Yes, Dean. You have very few secrets from me. And I hope you will let us explore all your desires and fantasies. Picturing you in silk panties, your erection straining at the tight fabric. Well, you can see my reaction to that scenario.” Cas gestured at the tent in his pants. Without a thought, Dean reached out and touched the hard length hidden behind a thin layer of fabric. He gasped as he felt the heat leaching into his hand. The groan Cas emitted, elicited a throbbing in his own erection.

“Cas, oh God. I have never touched…I want to see…please.”

Cas chuckled at Dean’s nerves and at his eagerness. “I think we should take this somewhere more private.” It was only then that Dean remembered where they were.   He blushed a dark crimson. “Yeah, I guess I got a bit carried away. Kinda forgot we were in the middle of a field.” Cas caressed his cheek. “Cas take us to my room.”

“Whatever you need, Dean.”


	9. Chapter Nine

In a flash, Dean found them back in his room, seated on his bed still entangled together. Cas’ hands rested on his own hips. Watching the movement of those hands, Dean’s breath hitched when he saw Cas slide his pajama pants down over his hips and his cock sprang free.

Dean’s eyes were consumed by the sight. His mouth dropped open when Cas stroked his own erection, squeezing the head. Having wanted to taste Cas for years, Dean could not stop himself from touching the liquid pooling at the tip. He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted them. Any semblance of control the angel possessed was gone. He pinned Dean to the bed, crashing his hips between the hunter’s legs. Cas thrust down and said, “You will take what I give you.”

Dean whimpered at the words and his already rock-hard dick twitched in response. “Please, Cas. Anything.” In a rush, their clothes hit the floor. Dean lay naked before the angel, stretched across the bed, arms and legs sprung wide. Cas knelt at the end of the bed mesmerized by the site before him. The hunter was gorgeous, flushed and panting with arousal. As he watched, Dean’s erection pulsed, hardening further under his gaze. The angel thought that nothing would ever compete with that site until Dean slid his feet up, bending his knees and exposing himself to the angel.

“Oh, Dean. My love. You are the greatest gift.” Dean blushed, turning his head into the pillow. “No, Dean. Never hide from me again. Everything we do in here is beautiful and wonderous. Shame will not be allowed. Let me show you how good we are together. How much pleasure we can give each other?”

Dean forced himself to look at the angel. The blue eyes wet with tears shimmered with desire. “Cas, please,” he said as he pulled his knees toward his chest. The invitation was clear. Cas slid his hands along Dean’s inner thighs, caressing the sensitive tissue. His mouth followed the pattern with gentle kisses and nips. At the juncture of thigh and hip, the angel sucked several bruises into the hunter’s skin. Dean lost himself to the sensation. Firm hands, soft lips, the harsh scrape of teeth and stubble, the whispered words of love kissed into his most tender places. And when Castiel’s mouth found his entrance his body arched off the bed. “Cas, you don’t…”

“Shh, Dean. Does it feel good?”

“God, yes, but…” Cas shushed him again. “Dean, I told you whatever you need and that includes our sex life.” Dean threw his arms over his face. “Cas don’t call it that.”

The angel laughed heartily as he pinched the hunter’s thigh. The response he got was unexpected. Dean’s cock throbbed and pre-come pooled at the tip, so the angel did it again. Dean groaned in response and bucked his hips in the air. “Cas, I…”

A firm hand pressed on the green-eyed man’s stomach and a deep voice commanded. “Dean tell me what you want.”

“Aw, fuck. Cas. Really?” The hunter lifted his head off the pillow to look at the angel. He was greeted with what he so affectionately called the smite face. Unable to control his body's reaction, Dean watched his own erection harden impossibly further. It was almost to the point of painful. Cas raised his eyebrow at the site and smirked. Dean miffed, “Proud of yourself. Aren’t you?”

Cas’ responding smile was captivating. “Yes, I am.” The smile faded and was replaced with the stern face of a pissed off Angel of the Lord. “Now, tell me.”

“I want…” Cas interrupted. “And be specific.”

Swallowing harshly, Dean steeled himself and did as the angel asked. “I want you to eat me out, fuck me with your fingers, your grace and then that magnificent cock of yours.”

Light shined in Cas’ eyes as his grace flared. His cock hardened and leaked with arousal. His voice was deep and whiskey smoked as he said, “Was that so hard?”

Dean relaxed and shrugged. “You tell me,” he said cheekily as he reached out and gripped Cas’ erection firmly.

Blue eyes glared at mirth-filled green eyes. “Yes, you are very clever.” Sarcasm evident in each word.

Dean chuckled. “I like to think so. Besides you’re the one who loves me as I am.”

“No truer words have been spoken. Now, where were we?” And with no further warning, Dean’s legs were shoved to his chest, his ass cheeks were spread and a warm wet tongue laved at his hole. The hunter lost all control of his body. It twisted, shook and thrust in abandon. He was so enthralled that he barely felt the addition of a finger. He did not come back to himself until he felt a tickle of grace well up inside him, pressing against his prostate and wrapping around his cock at the exact same moment. The orgasm ripped through him without warning and once again he was lost to his own pleasure. When he came to a second time, he sought out Cas. Reaching for him, trying to lift his head to see him. The angel gripped his hand and leaned over Dean.

“Hello, Dean.” The words were a balm to his beating heart. It was the way Cas had greeted him from the start. His name said with such significance and reverence. Dean understood now that those words were more than a greeting. They were an affirmation of the love the angel had for him. “Are you alright?”

“More than alright. That was amazing, but please don’t stop. I want to feel you. All of you inside of me. Please, Cas. I need you.” It was as close as Dean could get to saying I love you. Part of him knew it was not enough, so he promised himself in that moment, with Cas staring into his eyes with love and three fingers buried inside him, that someday soon he would tell him the depth of his love for his angel. The love that was visible in his eyes and reverberating through his mind and his soul. Cas felt the overpowering nature of that devotion, that love and leaned forward to kiss Dean. He fused the emotions swirling in Dean’s body and soul, pushed them into the kiss, strengthening their bond. The intensity of their connection and the passion of the kiss had Dean hard and leaking in seconds.

Cas resumed fingering Dean open while taking his cock into his mouth. Dean moaned at the wet heat engulfing his cock. The sound seemed to spur Cas on and he pressed insistently as Dean’s prostate before pulling his fingers out. Dean did not have time to miss the feelings as the angel’s cock slid in, bottoming out in one thrust. No pause, no quarter was given. Castiel fucked Dean hard and fast. Years of pent up desire and need screamed out by their bodies and mouths. The more aggressive the angel levered his hips, the more Dean responded. Words spewing without thought. “Like that, shit, harder Cas. I thought you were a fucking Angel of the Lord, soldier of heaven and that’s the best you got.”

The angel in question did not speak, but his reaction was swift. Dean found himself flipped over, ass in the air, hands tied to the headboard. “Holy fuck.”

“That sounds accurate,” Cas mused as he positioned Dean’s hips higher.

Dean went to comment, but a whimpered grunt came out instead as Cas slammed back into his body. The angel’s cock felt bigger than ever, filling him up more intensely. Each slide of that massive cock dragged along Dean’s prostate making him cry out in ecstasy. Between ragged breaths he managed to get out, “Did…you…ahhh….make…your…dick…fuuuck…big…ger?”

“Oh, Dean you have no idea the things I can do to you, to me, to us.” Dean screamed as he felt the cock inside him bend and flex pressing steadily against his sweet spot even as it moved in and out.

The scream continued as the pressure built. Tears streaming down his face, crying out Cas’ name, Dean’s orgasm whited out his vision. His body convulsed as the angel worked him through his orgasm by continuing to pound into him. Streaks of come burst forth on every thrust. As Dean’s body gave out, Cas released his bonds, flipped Dean around and pulled him flush to his chest. They rocked together slowly, kissing messily. A few deep rolls of Cas’ hips and then Dean felt the rush of heat and wetness deep inside his body. The warmth and tenderness of the angel’s grace soothed the hunter’s body and soul. Cas pulled back from the kiss to lock eyes with Dean. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes filled with more tears. He unlocked his arms from around Castiel’s neck so he could wipe them away, but the angel stopped him. “Let me, my love.” The powerful hands that had held the hunter down, now touched his face in unbelievable tenderness.

Choking on his words, Dean tried to speak. “Cas. You can’t just…” He shook his head as he dropped it onto Cas’s shoulder.

“What is it, Dean?” He lifted Dean from his shoulder to look in his eyes. “Please, tell me.” This time it was not a command, but a plea and it broke the last barrier in Dean’s heart.

“Shit. That right there. Those words said with such tenderness. Your hands touching me with such care. The love shining in your eyes. The touch of your grace. It is too much, Cas. How am I supposed to be worthy of that? I understood the demand of our bodies, the almost angry sex, but all the rest. How you finished, us simply rocking together, while practically cuddling. That I can’t wrap my head around.”

Cas lifted Dean off him and laid him out on the bed. He wrapped his arms around the man and cradled Dean’s head against his chest. “Dean, I told you long ago you deserved to be saved. And the same is true for love. There is no one more deserving, more worthy of my love than you. What happened today should be proof of that? Our love allowed me to protect us all. It allowed me to challenge my brother from a place of strength. More importantly, it allowed me to succeed.” Brushing his hands through Dean’s hair and down his back, Cas continued. “And if that is not enough proof, the combining of our bodies in passionate intercourse rocking the world should be.”

A deep chuckle erupted against Castiel’s chest. “Wow, you think awful highly of yourself.”

“Dean.” It was only one word, but the tone was exasperated.

“What just saying your ego seems a bit overinflated?” Pulling the hunter away from his body, Cas said, “That was not my ego. The earth trembled when I ejaculated.”

The hunter squinted at him looking for a tell, looking for the joke, but when nothing stood out he froze. Cas waited patiently for him to understand the implication. A spluttered, “Wait, what?” was the initial response followed quickly by, “Are you saying we caused an earthquake when you came in my ass?”

The angel shrugged and said blandly, “A minor one. 2.3 on the Richter scale covering half of North America.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That is all you have to say on the matter. You sounded like you were reading the phone book.” Dean shook Cas’ shoulders emphasizing his frustration. “Seriously, Cas, we rocked the world. That is so awesome.” His smile faltered.   “No one got hurt. Right?” The angel nodded. “Ok, then. Awesome it is.”

Castiel indulged the hunter. “Yes, Dean. Our lovemaking is awesome.”

“Ew. Don’t call it lovemaking that sounds so…” The angel covered the hunter’s mouth roughly. “Do not even thinking of saying the word gay.” Since he couldn’t speak, Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “or girly.” At that the green-eyed man slumped in embarrassment. Cas dropped his hand away. “Dean what we do is not girly. There are no chick-flick moments. We are both male. We are engaging in gay sex.” He lifted his hand to stop the protest. “No, Dean. I will not let you insult what we are doing together by using gay or girly as derogatory words. Neither of those terms are negative in their definition. Humans have used them as insults and as a result have shifted their real meaning. We will not contribute further to that distortion.”

Dean looked away in shame, mouth pinched tight. “Dean, my love. You need to accept who you are. You are a bisexual man in love with an angel in a male body. A male body you find very attractive I might add. You love to be hugged and love being cherished by words and touch. There is nothing wrong with any of those aspects of who you are. They are as important as your love of protecting your family, your desire to do good in the world, your role as a hunter and your responsibility as a big brother. Each of these things make up the man I love. Never shy away from that, especially when it is just the two of us.”

Tears welled in Dean’s eyes. “Dammit Cas. I have cried more today than I have in my whole life.”

Cas could not resist and whispered loudly, “That is simply not true.” Dean pushed against the angel. “Shut up. You made me fucking cry during sex, Cas. That is just wrong.”

“Really, giving you such a powerful orgasm, it brought you to tears is wrong. I will remember to never let it happen again.”

“I didn’t mean that.” The angel smirked at the man. Dean huffed, “Fuck, you are too good at this. How are you so good at this?” Cas merely shrugged in response. “In all honesty, Cas, this is going to be hard for me. I use the chick-flick thing all the time to get out of emotional conversations. I have never said even to myself that I am…the way I am.” Cas raised one eyebrow at him showing his displeasure. “Fine, for you, but only you.” The eyebrow spiked even higher. “Come on, Cas. It was a good place to start.”

“Dean, I have no idea what you think is going to happen once we leave this room. Do you plan on pretending this did not happen? Are you going to ignore the questions people will ask? Which they will ask, since they witnessed our first kiss?”

The hunter drooped his shoulders. “I don’t know, Cas. I haven’t thought that far. But now that you mention it, why do they need to know? This is about the two of us."

An extremely angry angel voice boomed, “Dean Winchester, I will not hide. I will not deny us.”

“Geez, Cas. Calm down.” _And oh, fuck that was the wrong thing to say_ , Dean thought to himself as the angel’s smite face returned.

“I will not calm down. You grow up instead. We are a couple now and the world already fucking knows it, or did you think they failed to hear you screaming while I pounded your ass into the mattress. Do you really think they did not hear you beg for me to go harder and how you love my big cock?” As the angry words spewed from the angel’s kiss reddened lips, Dean realized the futility of his argument. His face flushed in embarrassment over the reality of the situation. _You weren’t exactly quiet_ , he thought to himself. Making eye contact, Dean saw a deep sadness behind the anger in Cas’ eyes. _Fix this you idiot._

Placing his hands gently on his angel’s cheeks, Dean whispered, “Shh, Cas. It’s ok. I understand. No more hiding.” The angel’s face softened prompting the hunter to continue. “I will try to accept myself and my desires more freely. I cannot promise I will always be ready to talk or hug it out, but for you I will try. I guess the best place to start is to say that I am bisexual and that I am having awesome sex with an angel in a smoking hot male body.”

“Dean.”

“Aw, come on. What was wrong with that? It was truthful. I said the ‘b’ word.” Cas merely tipped his head. “Fine. We engaged in gay sex and I loved it. We cuddled after and it was amazing. The packaging is hot, but it is the angel underneath that stole my soul. Better?” Dean winked as he finished.

It was the angel’s turn to flush crimson. He shyly dropped his eyes and then looked back up at the man through his long black eyelashes. The site was breathtaking. “Perfect,” Cas said dropping his voice even deeper and infusing it with sensuality.

“Cas, holy shit. That is so hot.” Dean looked at his own groin. “I am hard already. That is not humanly possible after all we just did.”

“Not humanly, but definitely possible for an angel.”

Dean whined at the implication. “Is this how it is going to be? Erections at your whim.” The angel laughed, “Is that truly a problem for you, Dean, because I can make it go away if you want?”

“No, no, no. Unless you want to make it go away in the sexy way.”

The beaming smile, he received in response, lit Dean up from the inside. He surged forward and captured the angel’s lips in a bruising kiss.

 

It was hours later that the two emerged from Dean’s room. A smattering of laughter and applause greeted them when they entered the library. It was Sam’s beat red cheeks, however, that caused Dean to double over in laughter. Cas stood at his side stoically as Dean struggled to catch his breath. “Cas, did you see his face?” Laughter erupted again. “Yes, Dean. Sam is clearly embarrassed by our passionate love…” Dean gripped the angel’s arm, “Cas I told you not to call it that.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to laugh. “Gotta love the angel and his lack of filter.”

Determined to regain control of the situation, Dean said, “And you know what, that lack of filter works really well when he talks dirty to me. He’s all, Dean I am going to…”

The sound of his mother’s voice cut him off at the quick. “Dean Michael Winchester, we do not need to hear that.”

Charlie guffawed. “Mary, you mean we do not need to hear that again.” The feisty red-head turned to face Cas and Dean. “Gotta say I am impressed. I wasn’t sure you had it in you, angel.”

“Oh, I always knew Castiel would be a marvel in bed. I just wish I was there to see it.” Rowena snarled and winked.

“Nope, nuh…uh. No one is getting near my angel. I do not share, got it.”

 Sam sidled over to Dean’s side. “So, he is your angel now.” Dean glared at his giant of a brother. “I guess that confirms that.” Slapping his hand on Dean’s back, Sam said, “It’s about time. I am happy for you.” He looked over Dean’s head at Castiel. “For both of you.”

“Thank you, Sam. This has been a rather difficult transition for your brother. The juvenile nature of his responses was expected.”

Dean frowned at the angel. “Hey.”  Cas patted his hand. “What was unexpected, but greatly appreciated was his acknowledgment and acceptance.” Turning to face Dean fully, Cas gazed into Dean’s eyes. “And I have been and will always be your angel. I love you, Dean.”

“Fuck. Hear come the waterworks again. Thanks a lot, Cas.” The angel’s eyes crinkled and shined with his happiness and all the hunter could do in response was lean in and accept the love. Their lips met, as tears streamed from Dean’s eyes. No longer able to contain his emotions, the man looked into the gorgeous blue eyes of his fantasies, looked at the angel of his dreams and whispered, “I love you, too.”


End file.
